


the real monsters don’t hide under your bed.

by unwxnted_ellie



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Reality, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Tragedy, Angst with a Happy Ending, Child Death, Flashbacks, Keith & Shiro (Voltron) are Siblings, Keith (Voltron) Angst, Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, Keith/Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Minor Character Death, Nightmares, Original Character(s), Orphan Keith (Voltron), Panic Attacks, School Shootings, but in dreams
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:33:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23182528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unwxnted_ellie/pseuds/unwxnted_ellie
Summary: Four years after the Galra Empire was defeated, Keith and Lance adopted two twin girls.Keith and Lance thought that the only monsters in the world were the defeated Galra. But they were so wrong. The real monsters are average people. But with a messed up mind.The same messed up mind that decided to storm into the girls’ school and bring a gun to one of their chests.The same messed up mind that decided to pull the trigger.
Relationships: Adam/Shiro (Voltron), Keith & Shiro (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 18





	1. the real monsters will blend in like any average person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey it’s me again! well i do have a few things to say.
> 
> sooooo just so you know whenever the writing is on the opposite side of the screen and in italics, it’s what the other person is thinking. the POV will switch between Keith and Lance, so be aware of that.
> 
> enjoyyyyyy💗

"Lance, please. I can't do it anymore! I - I don't want to do it anymore!" Screamed Keith, punching his fist into the wall. His head followed suit, slamming into the plaster with brute, undeniable force. He couldn't breathe, couldn't hear, couldn't see, all he knew was red.

Red was everywhere.  


Red was on his knuckles and dripping from his forehead. 

Red was on the wall, wet and sticky. 

Red was on the floor, going

_split,_

_splat,_

_split,_

_splat,_

until the puddle was twice it's original size. 

Red swam through Keith's vision, pushing everything out of it's way until it was all he could focus on. 

Until it was all Keith could see.

"Keith, you need to stop." Said Lance calmly, even though his mind was the exact opposite of calm.  


_whyareyoudoingthistoyourselfstopitstopitstop!_

His mind wanted to scream it out, so loud that Keith would stop just from the shock, and being to scared to start again. But he didn't want to scare Keith. He wanted to calm him down. Talk about what he was upset about instead of punching it.

But he know's that's not going to work.

He wanted to grab Keith, stop him from hurting himself and just hold him, tell him it would all be alright until he finally calmed down. 

But he knows that's not going to work.

He pries a struggling Keith away from the wall, gently but forcefully putting him on their bed. 

"Breathe, Keith, breathe." He states simply. He knows the message might not get through to him, but maybe his soothing touches will. And maybe a slight bit of a slow, calming whisper will. And that would be enough. He thinks it will be enough. He hopes it will be enough.

Lance hopes that he is enough.

"Hey, hey it's going to be ok. We'll get through it together, right? Like we always have." 

  
  


_ like we always will _

Once Keith stopped struggling, he tucked a strand of Keith's sweat dampened hair behind his ear. 

Keith looked slowly up at Lance, and the only sound that was filling the room was his ragged, desperate gasps for air, loud and needy. Lance put a hand on Keith's.

"Match my breaths, ok?" He said softly. His slow, steady, calm breaths were still paired with uneven gulps. 

"Breathe in, breathe out." He said, staring straight in to the raven haired boys eyes. 

"One. Two. Three. Four. Your doing great sweetheart. One. Two. Three. Four." Keith matched his inhaled and exhales to the sound of Lance's rhythmic countic. Lance watched as he slowly began to calm down, a small bit of pain and anxiety leaving his face with every deep breath he took.

_onetwothreefouronetwothree_

"Good job Keith, I’m proud of you, ok?” He assured, resting his hand on Keith’s chest, confirming that Keith’s pulse was now normal. He bit his lip, staring at the new, still forming but still very obvious bump on the left side of Keith’s forehead. Keith’s knuckles were bleeding and bruising, and the right side of his forehead was doing the same. Lance inhaled deeply. They would deal with that in a second.

“Keith, what’s wrong?” Lance asked. He knew very well what was wrong, but he felt that it was the best way to start the conversation. 

_  
everything is wrong_

“Lance... I don’t know how to do this.” He said. His bottom lip quivered and his shoulders dropped in resignation.

“When I dealt with the death of my father, with the disappearance of my mother... I was alone. I didn’t have anything to fight for anymore. But that meant I had nothing to lose. I could do whatever the hell I wanted to help myself grieve, and I did. I cut myself, drowned my sorrows in alcohol, rearranged my bedroom so many times so I wouldn’t remember how it looked the day my father died. But now? I have  _everything_ to lose. I have you, I have my friends, I have  _another fucking daughter_ , and I don’t - I don’t know ho-how to do it.” He hiccuped, constantly sniffling whilst fighting back tears.

Lance rubbed his back soothingly, letting him know without using words that it is okay to cry.

He could no longer hold in his heartbreak, as it came out in the form of wet, hot tears pouring out of his eyes like a flood. The closing of his throat, the short intake of breath, the memories.

Oh god no, not the memories.

  
  


“Tweeter!” Cora called out as they passed a bright yellow car.

Cece giggled as she looked out the window at the oddly painted car. “Daddy! Papa! Did you see that silly looking car? The yellow one? It was yellow! Isn’t that funny?”

Keith suppressed a smile. “Yes sweetie, we saw it. And it was very funny, right Lance?”

Lance, who wasn’t paying attention, gave a slight hum at the use of his name.

“Papa, did you not look? Did you not see it? It was a funny yellow car!” Cora cried out, frustrated that her papa had not seen the funny car, even though the whole purpose of her saying _tweeter_ was so that everyone could see it. She pouted and turned her head around, refusing to look at her papa.

“No no no baby, I saw it, I was just thinking really, really hard after I saw it about how funny it looked. In fact, I was actually thinking so hard that I didn’t hear your daddy. But I swear that I saw it.”

Cora, apparently satisfied with his answer, turned her head back around and smiled widely at Lance.

“I love you, papa.”

“I love you too Cora. And you too, Cece.” He smirked at Keith, who raised an eyebrow.

“Yes? Does there happen to be anybody else worthy of your love?” He asked with mock suspicion.

“Well... I do love my mama. And my dad.” Lance answered. Keith’s eyebrow rose impossibly higher.

Cece snickered. “Papa, I think your forgetting daddy!” She squeaked.   
  
  


Lance put his pointer finger to his chin, tapping methodically. “Am I?”

Cora rolled her eyes, like the answer was obvious to her. I mean, it should have been, since Cora knows everything. “ _Yes_ , papa. I think... I think that you forgot ‘cause your just so old. Right Cece?” She said, smirking.

Cece covered her mouth with her hand, barely holding in her laughter. “Papa is so old!” She giggled.

Lance rolled his eyes. “Alright, I guess I just drove you little gremlins to Sydney’s for nothing, then. Come on Keith, I guess we gotta turn around and go back home.” He said, even though he was still pulling into a parking space.

Keith’s eyes widened. “What? No. I’m getting my ice cream whether you like it or not.” He stated simply, starting to get out of the car.

“Yeah, ice cream!” Cora squealed, as laughter bubbled up inside her chest.

Cece frowned. “Daddy? You can still order for me, right?” She asked, concerned. Cece hates ordering for herself, whether it be ordering food or even just asking for something she wants.

  
  
“Yes, sweetie, I can order for you.”

Cece bit her lip, not knowing if she was going to trust him. “Do you pinky promise?” She asked, holding her pinky out tentatively but expectantly.   
  
  


“Pinky promise.” He says, locking their pinkies together before kissing the top of her head. She smiles.

They walked across the parking lot to the small, pastel pink shop, with Cora and Lance skipping ahead together, however Cece and Keith were perfectly content with tagging behind, even if it meant being called slowpokes by their counterparts. Cece hid behind Keith and held his hand the entire walk down, but it was pretty cute, so Keith was just fine with it.   
  
  


The bell on the door rang out as Keith and Cece stepped inside. Cora had already decided on what she wanted. She ordered, her naturally loud, confident voice filling up the tiny pastel store.   
  
  
“Three scoops of rocky road on a cone, please!” She said, all the excitement she contained having drowned out the slightly demanding tones of her voice that appeared when she wanted something.

Lance raised an amused eyebrow, turning to the cashier with a slightly apologetic look on his face. “Make it two scoops, please.” He requested, scooping Cora up in his arms and shaking his head at her, a look of mock disappointment on his face.

”Awwwww but papa, that’s so laaaaaame! Who even gets two scoops anymore!?” She whined, ruffling his hair.   
  
  


“Hey! Don’t touch The Hair. You see, Cora, The Hair is a very important detail which must not be overlooked when your trying to flirt with the ladies.” He swiped her hand away from ‘The Hair’ and gave her a wink.

“What? I thought you were gay.” She deadpanned. Keith, who was now in the shop, snorted. “And besides, your just changing the subject!” She protested, smacking his head with all the strength that the tiny little five year old could muster.

“Hey, don’t you dare complain, young lady. Do you want me to turn into Shiro? I don’t think so, because do you know how many scoops Shiro will give you?” Said Lance sternly.

Cora looked down, slightly embarrassed. She forced out a quiet “ _One_.” Lance nodded in approval, knowing that had straightened her up. For the time being, at least. She groaned and squirmed, trying to free herself from the cages of her papa’s strong arms.

He smiled fondly and let her down, allowing her to collect her ice cream. She grinned greedily at it, digging in to the frozen treat and effectively getting it all over her face.

Cece looked up at her daddy, and he stepped closer to the counter. “And one scoop of vanilla ice cream with rainbow sprinkles.”

The teen girl working at the register looked up at him with a blank expression. “Cup or cone?” She asked, her voice laced with boredom.

“Cup, please.” He answered.

The young girl sighed. “And will that be a separate order, or is it all together?”   
  
  


He nodded his head. “Add it to their order, thanks.” He picked Cece up so she could reach her ice cream. She squealed and laughed as she reached over the counter for the cup of ice cream, and for a spoon from a jar just a little left of it. Once he let Cece down, she ran off to one of the kiddie tables, reaching for the marker bucket and carefully selecting a neon pink marker, plucking it out and scribbling all over the blank sheets of paper that the employees had laid out.   
  
  


Keith turned to Cora and grinned.

  
  
He was met with a scowl.

He was met with a face that was not Cora’s.

But it _was_.

  
  


Her skin was pale and clammy, and she was sweating. Her face was contorted in to a mixture of pain, agony and anger. She kept her scowl, even though it was obvious that it was painful, and that she was having trouble breathing. The chocolate ice cream that had previously been smeared all over her face was replaced with something red, dried and cracking.

blood.

“C-Cora?” He called out tensely. Something was definitely not right.

_everything is not right_

  
  


She scowled harder at the mention of her name. If that was even possible.   
  
  


She looked down at her clothes, noticing the front part of her brand new butterfly t-shirt was now stained with a red, sticky substance. She pursed her lips.

“Lance? Lance, Cora is bleeding we need to do something!” He wailed, tugging on Lance’s shirt.   
  


  
  


Why isn’t he listening to me?

Lance smiled at the cashier, handing her a ten and grabbing Cece’s hand. They left the shop, Cece happily spooning the ice cream in to her mouth in small bites, while both of them ignored Keith’s cried for help.

Why can’t they hear me?

Keith turned around to beg the cashier to call 911, but she was gone. He turned back around, but suddenly realized that he couldn’t move anymore. He struggled, attempting to fight the full body paralysis that had overtaken him, but it was no use. He was stuck. And he could do nothing.

Cora looked up from her blood stained shirt and stared straight back at Keith. She started to hack and cough, blood spurting out of her nose and dripping of out her mouth. He cringed.

“Daddy? Daddy please, I need help! Do something already, I’m bleeding! Please daddy, it hurts, it hurts really, really bad.” She cried out, tears starting to stream down her cheeks and on to the floor.

Gut wrenching sobs tore through Keith’s body as he suddenly realized what was happening. He was stuck, forced to watch his little girl bleed to death right in front of his eyes. His sweet, adventurous, fearless baby girl _bleed to death._

And he could do nothing. He was so _useless_.

“Daddy! Help me please! What did I do to you? Why do you hate me so much? Why are you letting them do this to me? Why are you just going to stand there and watch me suffer?” She asked, sobbing as the red patch on her chest grew out farther. She collapsed on to the ground in a tiny, disheveled heap, lips turning blue, as her body shook with adrenaline, shock and fear.

then she stopped.

Keith cried out, seeing her chest stop rising and her body stop shaking. 

He physically saw the life drain from her eyes.

Her face left soulless.   
  
  


She looked like a broken china doll. One that was once loved.

But now long forgotten in the dumpster.

Still.

Lifeless.

Abandoned.

The doll stood up, a tangle of broken bones and uncomfortably combined limbs, conjoined where they should not be. It started towards him, screeching in a way that did not sound human.

It wrapped it’s fingers around Keith’s head, squeezing until he felt like he was going to pop like a balloon. Then, it pushed him up against the wall, it’s broken porcelain limbs sticking out at odd angles, sharply cutting in to his flesh. He winced, and the doll put it’s fingers on his eyes, closing them harshly. He still couldn’t move, and now he couldn’t see either. He felt it’s bony fingers wrap around his neck and begin to choke him. He gasped and tried to get air in to his lungs but it wasn’t working. He felt like his lungs were going to burst.

He couldn’t hold on anymore.

Everything went dark.

  
Keith woke up, gasping and panting. He looked around his bedroom, running a hand through his sweat soaked hair. Lance wasn't there. Cece wasn't there. Cora wasn't there. 

Cora! She was bleeding to death!

He stood up in panic, and an icy shock rippled up his spine. Black dots clouded his vision and he started to get dizzy, until all he could see were the static dots and all he could feel was his head aching and protesting. He felt himself sink back down onto the bed until the dizzying dots and piercing headache went away.

_Goddamnit, Orthostatic hypotension. I need to save my daughter._

_But what if I'm already too late?_

He stood up again, running frantically around his room, looking for something. He didn't know what he was looking for.

_What am I doing? She's already gone._ He told himself.

What happened?

All the memories came flooding back. The panic attack. The ice cream shop. Seeing Cora bleed to death. But that wasn't real.

_So which parts were?_

Seeing Cora wasn't real. So the ice cream shop wasn't real. Then how come he can remember Sydneys ice cream shop so vividly? How come he can remember so many times that he went with Cora, Cece and Lance? How come everytime Cora would get something new, and Cece would always get one scoop of vanilla with rainbow sprinkles?

That's not important.

So _what is important anymore?_

Besides, what about the panic attack? Was that real? Was Lance real? _Yes_ , he decided, _Lance is real_. He wasn't sure about anything else though. What he was sure about, however, was that his head pounded and throbbed, and that his knuckles were bruised and sore.

And that he didn't like ice cream anymore.

A sudden knock on his door disrupted his train of thought. "Yeah?" He croaked, internally cringing at how awful he sounded.

Lance stepped through the door. "Hey, how long have you been awake?" He asked, stepping slowly towards him.

"Not long. But I'm just so _confused_."

Lance cocked his head to the side, not knowing what Keith meant. "What are you confused about?" 

"Well, I'm just not sure what's real. Did I have a panic attack? Did we go get ice cream?"

Lance bit his lip. "Yeah. You had a panic attack, I'm just not sure where the whole ice cream thing came from." He allowed himself to smile slightly. Keith returned it.

"So what happened exactly?" He asked, bringing his hand to his forehead. However, instead of feeling skin, he felt the rough, patchy texture of a bandage.

"Well, you had the attack and started to attack the walls with your fists. And then you proceeded to punch the walls _with your head_. Your lucky you don't have a concussion. Anyways, I calmed you down and we started talking, and then you just kinda... spaced out I guess. A couple minutes later you actually passed out, and I brought you to the castle's med bay. Your not seriously injured or anything, you just passed out because weren't breathing deeply enough." 

"Oh. Well, thanks." Keith said. He wasn't really sure how to feel, so he just didn't feel anything.

"Your uh- your welcome. Are you hungry or anything?"

Keith shook his head. "No I’m fine, I kinda just want to be alone right now, sorry."

"No no no don't be sorry, your fine. Alright well, I'll go now. Lance, out!" He said, being obnoxiously loud and giving him a wink before he left. Keith heard his footsteps echoing across the hallway, undeniably going to the right. He was going to Cece's room.

Keith sighed. He knows he should join Lance. It's 8 pm. Cece's bedtime. He hasn't gone into her room in weeks. He couldn't leave her room the month after it happened, and now he can't force himself to go in. He hasn't wished her goodnight because he was too busy wishing someone else was in that room with her. But it's not her fault. 

Keith stood up slowly. He could try to go in there tonight. Or he could not. He decided on the latter.

Cece probably hates him. And he wouldn't blame her. He hates himself too, so it looks like they are both on the same page. Cece doesn't understand yet, she's only six. And she was only five when Cora was killed. She may not even remember. All she knows is that so far, nobody has stayed with her. All she knows is that now, she is alone again. Her birth parents abandoned her. She was adopted once, and her adoptive parents died in a car accident. All she knows is that the only person that's actually stayed with her through everything is Cora.

All she knows is that the only person that's actually stayed with her through everything is gone. 

And they aren't going to come back.

Now, Keith and Lance are the only people that she can truly trust. Kids are meant to be naive, friendly, and worry free. Cece is the exact opposite of that. She's so young that she can barely grasp what's going on, and she doesn't know how to cope. _Cora was her way of coping_. Listening to Cora chatter away and laugh, and it makes you forget all your worries and troubles. It makes you want to laugh too.

Now, she's alone.

She may not even trust Keith. She's only seen him a couple of times when he's not angry. Or sad. She may be scared of him. And Keith knows he needs to change that. 

_One step at a time._ He tells himself. _You can go slow if you need to_. 

He walks towards the door.

He puts his hand on the handle.

And pulls it away.

He puts his hand on the handle.

He turns the handle.

He opens the door.

He steps out of his bedroom.

He turns right.

One foot steps in front of the other.

Slowly.

Calculated.

Precise.

But still cautiously. 

Carefully.

A knock. That's all it takes, just a goddamn knock. And yet he can't do it. He just stands outside her door, waiting, watching. He cups his ear to the door. He tries to listen.

"And then Keith attacked Sendak! Can you believe it?" Lance’s voice was slightly muffled by the door, but it was still as emotion filled as always. And as annoyingly loud. No one questioned where Cora got that trait from. Sure she wasn't related to them by blood, but no one would mistake her for anyone else's child when the faces she would pull look exactly like Keith's, and when her voice sounded so much like Lance’s.

Well, Cora's voice _used to_ sound like Lance’s

Keith hates past tense.

"Really? Are you sure daddy is that strong?" Cece asked skeptically.

Lance snorted. "Yeah yeah, I'm sure. So less about him, and more about _me_! So, I finished Sendak off and then everyone was like _‘Lance, your amazing!’_ And _‘Lance, we’re so lucky we have you on the team.’_ And then we all rode off happily into the sunset. The end!" Lance said, and Keith could hear the smile in his voice. However, Cece was not giggling like she usually would at the end of stories.

“Cece, is there something wrong?” Lance asked.

“Is daddy mad at me?” She asked.

“What! No baby, he’s not mad at you. What would make you think that?”

She bit her lip. “He won’t say goodnight to me anymore. And he hardly smiles anymore.”

That broke Keith’s heart. And that was what finally made Keith turn the door handle.

“Hey sweet pea.” He said simply. He made sure to smile.

He loved the way Cece’s face lit up with joy.

“Daddy! Daddy come over here, papa was just telling me a really good story!” She said excitedly.

“Oh really?” Keith said. He sat down on the bed next to Lance, intertwining their finger together.

Lance looked at him for a brief second and smiled.

“Yeah! He said you were really strong and punched Sendak!” She said cheerfully, a fire igniting in her soft blue eyes. They looked... alive. Like how an electric fence would look when suddenly turned on after so many years of being off.

He was glad that there was finally a spark in her otherwise dull eyes. Finally, there was a light. There was hope. And he was glad that he was able to put it there.

They talked for what seemed like only minutes. But when he and Lance tucked her in to her Sleeping Beauty sheets and then left her room, he took a quick glance at the clock.

It read the numbers 9:17

”Holy cheese Lance, we were in there for like, and hour!” Exclaimed Keith, shocked.

Lance hummed in acknowledgment and continued walking without saying a word. He looked deep in thought.

They arrived at their bedroom door, and instead of turning the door knob and entering the room, Lance turned around to face Keith.

”Hey Keith, I just... I just want you to know that I’m really, _really_ proud of you. I know how hard all of this has been on you and I really appreciate it. Like, a lot.” He paused, though sounding like he genuinely meant what he had said. Keith smiled.

”And I want you to know, that there are monsters. And their gonna be everywhere. But we have already faced some of them, and if we ever have to fight any more, we are gonna do it together. And we are gonna kick their asses. Ok?” Lance finished.

Keith laughed. “Ok.” He said, wrapping the slightly taller boy in to a hug.

  
  
“I love you.”

”I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok this may be pretty slow to update, but im aiming to get the next chapter up by saturday! hope you liked it
> 
> comments and kudos appreciated!💕


	2. the real monsters don’t look scary, but the damage they do is terrifying

  
“Where are they?” Lance cried out. Tears were now streaming down his face and he made no effort to stop them, knowing that more would just come and take their place.

“I- I don’t know... they should be here! Oh god please no please no...” Keith trailed off, holding back his own tears. They looked around frantically for their little girls, only seeing a sea of other kids and teachers, and relieved faces as parents hugged their safe children. Keith knew that would be them eventually. Cora and Cece _had to be ok._

_They just had to._   
  
  


Keith and Lance were at the local fire station next to their daughters’ elementary school after getting word that there was an active shooter. They still had yet to find Cora and Cece. An alarmed mother pushed forcefully past Lance, shoving him away from Keith and almost trampling him to the ground. Keith grabbed Lance’s hand so they wouldn’t get separated in the chaos. Lance smiled gratefully at him through his tears.

“Keith look, they are holding up cards? I think that’s what those are. I - It has the teachers name on them. Maybe so the parents can find the kids easier, or maybe so the teachers can take roll, but we know that Cece and Cora are in Mrs. Browns class, so let’s find her place card.” Lance suggested, hiccuping. He pointed to where a young teacher was corralling her students to a corner, counting them over and over and over again. She held up a placard with the words Mrs. Sommers on it, written in bold bubble letters. 

Keith nodded. “Yeah ok. Good idea.” He said, fighting the onslaught of sobs that were ready to take control.

They looked around, trying to find the name Mrs. Brown written in bold bubble letters, but after a while they started to give up hope.   
  
  


A worried father ran up to them. “He - hello, have you seen Miss. Wood’s class yet? My son is in that class, and I can’t find him or his classmates anywhere! Do you think they are still hiding in the school?” He asked, panicked. Keith bit his lip.

“I’m sorry sir, but I haven’t seen Miss Wood or know about her or her students whereabouts.” He stated, trying to sound professional and like he wasn’t on the brink of tears. But he was teetering on the edge.

The man nodded solemnly. “Alright, thank you.” He said sadly, walking off slowly to a sobbing mother, clutching her heart. They both looked so deflated. Defeated. Keith couldn’t help but wonder if that’s what him and Lance looked like too. Keith saw the man say something to the woman, and she collapsed on to the cold pavement in a heap. Keith looked away.

“Keith... I think these two classes are missing. They - they just aren’t here!” Lance wailed, using exaggerated hand motions like he always did when he was upset.

“Hey, hey, they’re probably just still hiding in the school. We’re gonna find them, alright? And everything is gonna be fine.” He soothed, putting his somehow still steady hands on Lance’s shaking shoulders.   
  
  


Lance took a deep, calming breath. “Alright.” He replied.

After a few more minutes of searching, the crowd was dispersing, having already found their kids and having no need to stay at the fire station. They were leaving to go rejoice that their child was okay, and to mourn the children who weren’t. They knew that them and their children were extremely lucky, but that doesn’t mean that they would ever be able to understand what the parents who did lose their child had to go through. This left around twenty other couples still standing there, waiting.

There were no kids left.   
  
  


Keith looked back and noticed the woman who had pushed past Lance was leaving with a two young boys and an older male, who Keith assumes was the father. They were leaving to go rejoice that their child was okay, and to mourn the children who weren’t. They knew that them and their children were extremely lucky, but that doesn’t mean that they would ever be able to understand what the parents who did lose their child had to go through.

It was starting to get dark, and a sense of shock was settling in the air. Everyone was tense. Everyone was waiting for their child to finally rush out of the building and in to their arms, telling them not to worry, that they were okay.

  
  
A couple police officers walked up from the building, and every time that happened people got hopeful that maybe, just maybe, one of them would be carrying their child.

Keith finally broke his calm demeanor and burst out in to tears as yet another police officer came without any children. It seemed like the millionth time that happened, and he felt like he just couldn’t take it anymore, not knowing. And every time a police officer walked past without any children, a bit of his hope vanished. A piece of his heart was ripped from his body. He buried in face in to Lance’s chest, getting snot all over his shirt. Neither of them cared.

Once that first tear broke free, the rest followed in an unbroken stream. Keith leaned forwards, not holding most of his own weight but instead using Lance as a support. He sobbed in to his chest unceasingly, hands clutching at his jacket. He held the pale boy in silence, rocking him slowly as his tears soaked his chest. A tiny lapse let him pull away, blinking lashes heavy with tears, before he collapsed again, his howls of misery worsening. The pain must have come in waves, minutes of sobbing broken apart by short pauses for recovering breaths, before hurling him back into the outstretched arms of his grief. The tears in his eyes turned the rainy day into a whirlwind of grays and yellows. He slammed his fists in to Lance’s shoulder. He knew Lance didn’t care. And he didn't care who saw him collapse on to the ground, awaiting the inevitable. He just broke down. The sobs punched through, ripping through his muscles, bones, and guts. He pressed his forehead against the grimy, slick floor and began to let his heart yank in and out of his chest. It pulled back in like a yo yo. Over and over. In and out. He was hollow. His life crumbled in his fingertips. Then, suddenly, Lance were there, on the floor with him, patting and rubbing his back. He reached in to the raven haired boy’s hollowness.

“Keith, look.” Lance whispered in to his ear. He shook his head. He didn’t want to. “No Keith, please. This one has a kid with him.” Lance said, more urgently this time.

Keith quickly looked up to see a police officer walking with the silhouette of a young girl clutching on to his hand, holding on tight for dear life. It was too dark to see anything clearly, but she was about a half a step behind him, looking at the ground. She was draped in a large olive green jacket, and had curly hair, about shoulder length. She was tiny, too. Way too small to be anything older than a second grader, but she almost looked too small to be a first grader or a kindergartener. Her hair was a light color, but the area was so poorly lit and she was so far away that he couldn’t quite tell if her hair was blonde or a light brown.

Lance pried himself away from Keith’s grip, obviously seeing some sort of resemblance between this little girl and Cece. “Cece?” He called out to the girl.

The girl turned her head at the sound of the name, her curls bouncing up and down. Maybe it _is_ Cece!

Lance ran over to her, grabbing Keith’s hand and pulling him along before Keith started to run, too. They arrived at her side in no time, and he was horrified at the sight he saw.

It _was_ Cece.

But she was covered head to toe in blood.

Lance and Keith wrapped her up in to a hug, spilling out their emotions on to the cold, hard concrete below them. They knew that she wasn’t injured, because if she was she would have been taken to a hospital, not a fire station. They were a bit puzzled, not knowing where the blood came from if she wasn’t hurt, but it didn’t matter. They just couldn’t believe they were so lucky. They didn’t care that she was completely drenched in the wet, fresh blood that brought shivers down Keith’s spine. That brought back memories of the gruesome deaths that they had seen in their fight with the Galra. They just knew that their little girl was safe.

Then a realization dawned on him. There was supposed to be two of them.

Two little girls, wrapped up in an olive green jacket.

Two little girls, led away from the traumatic scene by a police officer.

Two little girls, drenched in the metallic smelling blood that drizzled on to the pavement like rain on a window pane.

Two little girls, wrapped in this endless embrace.

Two little girls.

Instead, they were met with only one.

Keith sucked in a panicked breath. “Hey Cece? Do you remember where Cora is?” He asked her, pulling away from their hug but still kneeling down to be at Cece’s eye level.

Cece looked him dead in the eye, and he awaited her response. He dreaded it. “I don’t know what happened to Cora after the cans fell over.” She said nonchalantly.

Lance looked at him with widened eyes, then back to Cece. “Honey, what does that mean?” He asked, rubbing her shoulders. She just shrugged. They all stood up, Lance carrying Cece to the car, where they buckled her in. Keith and Lance were just so confused. What cans was she talking about? Where was Cora, and what went down in that class room? A million unanswered questions raced through his mind, and undoubtedly Lance’s as well.

“Listen Lance, I’m going to go home with Cece. I’m going to find out what happened in her class, and I want you to stay at the station. Just in case Cora comes out. And if she doesn’t... then the police will tell you what happened. Probably show you a picture to make sure it’s her. I want you to call me if that happens, as soon as it does, ok?” He said. He was strict with his instructions, but gentle with his words. Lance nodded, not being able to trust his voice. He was obviously still terrified for the rest of the night.

“I love you.” Said Keith, kissing Lance’s cheek before getting in to the drivers seat of the car.

“I love you too.” Lance replied, squeezing Keith’s hand in reassurance before heading back to the area where the remaining couples were clumped together.

They came to school with two little girls.

They left with only one.

Keith started to drive home, his knuckles white from how hard he was gripping the steering wheel. His turns were sharp and harsh, and they would’ve sent Cece flying if it weren’t for her seatbelt tightly securing her to her car seat. Still, she held on tight.

“Hey baby, can you tell me what happened? Like, through the whole day, pretty please?” He asked.

“Um... ok.” She said, and Keith knew he was about to find out what happened in room 116. What happened to his other little girl.   
  


  
But he wasn’t quite sure if he wanted too.

“But daddy, you know I’m ok, right?” She asked him.

“Y - yes sweetheart, I know.” He replied, a bit stunned by the question.

She looked down. “I don’t think my friends are.” Was all she said. Keith bit his lip.

“We - Well just tell me what happened, ok? Your friends are gonna be okay.” He said shakily, knowing that he was probably lying.

“So, we um, first we had our morning meeting. Me and Cora sat next to each other and we talked to each other about how cool it was to have two daddies who went to space with giant cats. Then, we had snack time. I ate fruit snacks. I like fruit snacks. Cora had goldfish, and then she pretended that she hadn’t eaten any and traded them for Sammy’s granola bar. Then they traded back. I don’t know why. After that, we had story time. I liked the story. It was called _“If you give a mouse a cookie.”_ It was funny. And then we heard some cans falling over in the other room. It was a little weird. After that happened, Mrs. Brown told us to be real, real quiet. I don’t know why. She told us to go to a corner, but after she told us to do that, I heard some more cans fall over and she screamed really really loud and fell on the ground. I think she was trying to act like the cans. It hurt my ears a little bit, so I covered them. Soon, all my friends did what Mrs. Brown did, even Cora. I didn’t want to be the only one standing because that makes me feel weird. So I did what Cora did, because Cora is really cool. And I wanted to be like Cora. I screamed a little bit, and then I dropped to the ground. I think they must have been paint cans that fell over, ‘cause there was a bunch of red everywhere. And I have red paint all over me, too. Except it doesn’t really feel like paint. And I didn’t actually see any cans.” She said.

Keith’s eyes were blown wide. “Wh - what happened next, sweet pea?” He asked. The shock was still setting in, leaving an odd numbness to fill in the missing gaps.

Cece inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. “Well, after we all acted like Mrs. Brown and the paint cans, I got kinda bored, but no one else was standing up, so I didn’t either. There were a couple of shrieks, but other than that nobody moved or said anything. So I thought maybe it was nap time. I tried to go to sleep, I really did, but I just couldn’t. Usually whenever I can’t sleep during nap time Mrs. Brown will let me get more fruit snacks. But since she was taking a nap and I didn’t want to wake her, I didn’t ask. I just got up and started to eat the rest of my fruit snacks. Then, a scary guy with a badge came in. I told him to stay back and that I could punch him ‘cause I knew karate. He told me that I was safe, and I told him that I was never not safe, and that he needed to leave because Mrs. Brown was gonna get mad and take him out in the hall once nap time is over. But it turns out he was a nice man, and he gave me an extra jacket that he had and his pretty badge. Well, it’s only a sticker, but I like it. We walked out of school and then I asked him when we were gonna go back and get Cora, and he said that other people were gonna go and get her. And I said ok. And then I saw you and papa, and then we got in to the car. The end.” She said, ending it like it was a fairytale.

But it was a nightmare.

”Ok, you know what we’re gonna do? I’m going to drop you off at Uncle Shiro’s house, ok? Does that sound like fun?” Cece just nodded.

“Dad? I miss her. I don’t think she’s coming back.” Cece said. Her voice sounded like a mixture of pain, a bit of fear, but mostly she sounded... lost. Like she was trying to grasp something just out of her reach.

Like she was trying to understand.

“Well, we never know, ok?” He said, trying to sound optimistic for her sake.

“Um, ok.” She said simply.

The rest of the drive was silent, until her finally pulled up to Shiro’s house, realizing that he had forgotten to call Shiro and let him know in advance. Still, he got a very sticky Cece out of the car and held her hand, walking up to the door. He was trying not to cry.

He knocked on the door and waited.

The door opened. “Hey Keith, what’s up? I haven’t OH MY GOD CECE ARE YOU OK?” He shrieked.

Keith put a silencing finger to his lips. “She’s fine, but I need to get back to the fire station. Can you please watch her? I’m so sorry this is on such short notice, but I -“

“Of course I can watch her, Keith.” Shiro interrupted, suddenly realizing some of what was going on.

That there was supposed to be two little girls.

And that he was only asked to watch one little girl.

Shiro took a step backwards, leading Cece inside of his cottage style house. Keith pulled him aside and looked at him with serious violet eyes.

“Hey Cece, why don’t you go find Adam, ok? He can give you a bath, and afterwards you can go help him make some noodles or watch TV, but me and your daddy need to talk.” He said, looking back at her.

She nodded and ran off, calling Adam’s name. Shiro sighed.

“What. The fuck. Happened.” He demanded. Keith burst in to tears.

“We g - got a call from the sc - school, and they told us there was an active sh - shooter. From what I’ve heard from her, she only survived because she played dead, seeing that Cora had fa - fallen to the ground, and she wanted to be just like her.” Keith sobbed.

“She - from what I understand she was the only survivor from that classroom.” He wailed, digging his face in to the crook of his older brothers’ neck. Shiro rubbed his back soothingly.

And thats when everything clicked for Shiro.

Cece didn’t understand what was going on, that’s why she was so happy and carefree.

Cece didn’t even know that it was a school shooting.

Cece was drenched in her own sisters blood.

Cece survived by accident.

Shiro gulped. “I’m gonna go let Adam know, and call me as soon as you get any information, ok? I’m also going to watch the news while Adam gives Cece a bath. Sound like a plan?” 

Keith just nodded, gave his brother one last hug, and walked back down to his car.

There were blood stains on Cece’s car seat.

  
Lance paced around the station, awaiting the news that he was pretty sure he had already figured out. He had already pieced some things together, but it was no question that Cora was gone. He didn’t want to believe it. He wanted to believe that instead of her tiny body still being trapped in the school under another one of her bloody classmates, lifeless and unmoving, that she was hiding in a bathroom somewhere, refusing to come out. 

But the chances of that were so low, he wasn’t even considering that as a possibility.

He still wanted to believe, though.

  
  
He saw him and Keith’s car pull up to the parking lot, a beaten up blue Toyota. They had never allowed, and never will allow, Cece and Cora to ride in Keith’s motorcycle. He rushed over to the car, seeing Keith get out of the car and wrapping him up in to a hug. Both of their faces were red and blotchy, their eyes puffy and bloodshot, their noses red and feeling like sandpaper.

  
  
“So they haven’t said anything yet?” Keith asked him, pulling away. Lance just shook his head. Keith nodded.

“They started talking to other people though.” Said Lance. The ‘they’ that they were referring to was the police officers. Keith looked over Lance’s shoulder and saw a bunch of older women and men, most of them either crying or comforting someone. A couple of them just stood there in shock, paralyzed.

It was beginning to get lighter outside, and Keith heard crickets.

  
  
They walked over to the clump of mothers and fathers, hand in hand, until a police officer approached them. He was a bulky, middle aged man, around his early thirties. He had thick brown hair and a stubbly chin. He looked at Keith, clearing his throat. “Are you Keith Kogane, father to Cece and Cora Kogane?” Keith nodded, holding on to Lance’s hand with a death grip. Here’s where the death blow comes.

“Ok, we think we have identified one of your daughters, Cora Kogane, in the building. It is unfortunate that I have to confirm this for you, but she has passed.” Keith nodded tensely, and a tear released from Lance’s eyes and rolled down his cheek. But neither of them were surprised, they were just dreading the confirmation of what they had suspected that they already knew.

  
  
“We need you to confirm her identity, but we recommend that you identify her by these head shots that were taken, not in person. It is easier to grieve that way. There is a time and place for getting up close and personal in the grieving process but to accomplish this we felt it would be best to do it this way." The officer stated.   
  
  


“Can we please see her in person as soon as possible then?” Keith asked. The officer nodded.

“She will be transported to a medical base in Carmington, when an autopsy will be conducted. You may see her after that is completed.”

“C - can we please just see these head shots and get this over with?” Lance burst, his voice laced with anger and venom. 

“Yes sir.” The officer said, unfazed. Keith was not surprised. He had probably seen a lot worse in his years as an officer, and an upset parent was nothing compared to what he had experienced. The officer pulled out a couple of pretty high quality photos from his pants pocket.

She looked... almost peaceful. Still, Keith shoved the photos in to the mans hands as soon as he was positive that it was, in fact, Cora. He didn’t have time to analyze the blood pooled around her head, or the way her eyebrows furrowed slightly, the same look Keith made when he was distressed or in pain but didn’t want to show it. He didn’t even take a second glance at the hand of another little body that was laid close to her face.

“Yes, yes that is her.” He said, closing his eyes. He had a pounding headache.

  
  
“Ok, that’s all we needed. Thank you.” And with that, he walked off.

They got in to the car silently. And they just sat there. Keith did not drive. Lance did not want him to drive. They just... stared at each other.

Until Lance choked. And they both started to cry.

The tears burst forth like water from a dam, spilling down their faces. Keith felt the muscles of his chin tremble like a small child and he looked towards the window, as if the light could soothe him. There is static in his head once more, a side effect of the constant fear, the constant stress he lives with. He hears his own sounds, like a distressed child, raw from the inside. It takes something out of him that he didn't know he had left to give. That's the way it is when people are hard. It's like a theft of the spirit, an injury no other person can see. Both boys’ eyes drip with tears. Keiths walls, the walls that hold him up, the walls that make him strong just... collapse. Moment by moment, they fall. Brick by brick, they came tumbling down. Salty drops fall from his chin, drenching his shirt. Perhaps these tears will help wash the blood out. He presses the back of his head against the wall of the car... baby blue, so innocent... he is anything but innocent. He’s trembling. He can't stop. Even as he presses his hand against the wall it shakes, it trembles. It's raw, everything, raw tears, raw emotions. He can't stop... he can't stop. Why can he not stop crying?

Lance is the first to move, and he just held Keith close. Keith scrubbed at his nose so that he wouldn’t end up with snot running down his face, joining the tears. His breath stuttered and a lump formed in his throat. He tried to conjure up some words of reassurance, but whenever he tried to speak, his voice would crack and croak, so he stayed silent, besides the awful choking noises of course.

He cried until there was nothing left inside but a raw emptiness that nibbles at his insides like a hungry rat. His irises were threaded scarlet and his eyeballs hung heavy in their sockets. His whole body hung limp like each limb weighed twice as much as it had before and just moving it about was a slow, painful effort. The sun now partially shone in the sky, but not for him, the birds sung in bursts of melody, but not for him, for him there was no beauty left in the world.

The sunset was beautiful.

But not to him.

They had both stopped crying by now.

_everything is wrong_

  
“Hey Keith? Let’s go home. I’m... I doubt that I’m going to be able to sleep, but I want to take a shower. Make some food.” Said Lance. Keith nodded, gripping the steering wheel and adjusting the gears. He didn’t know if he wanted to drive fast so that he could just get home, or if he wanted to go slow, so that he would have time to calm down.

He exceeded the speed limit.

They finally arrived to their house, and that’s when Keith texted Shiro.

kogayne ——— > space dad

kogayne: _hi shirt cyn you wacth ccec for the whloe nite pls_

space dad: _Keith... it’s already three am..._

kogayne: _ok ill cmoe get hr_

space dad: _No Keith, you go get some rest. Your obviously stressed. I can take care of her._

kogayne: _thx_

Keith sighed in relief. He read back over his texts, realizing how tired he sounded, and how his texts made literally no sense. Whatever, Shiro is watching Cece for the night so it’s fine. He walked in to their house, where Lance was already in the shower. And he wasn’t singing.  
  
  


Lance was _always_ singing in the shower.

It was kind of unnerving.  
  


Keith inhaled deeply and walked in to the downstairs bathroom, not wanting to disturb Lance in the upstairs one. He scrubbed away at his face with a damp wash cloth until he felt raw. He walked past the kitchen. He wasn’t hungry. He walked past the living room. He didn’t want to watch T.V. He knew the shooting would be all over any of the channels that he would flip through. He walked up the stairs. He walked past the bathroom. He didn’t want to walk in while Lance was showering. He walked past Cora and Cece’s room. There were so many reasons he didn’t want to go in there. He finally settled on going in to his bedroom.

He just sat there, numb. He wasn’t really sure what to make of it. He knew it was a joke. He was waiting for a camera crew to pop out with Cora in their arms, tell him that _“It’s just a prank, bro!”_

_Your a joke._

_Shootings are not a joke._

Keith sighed, and Lance walked in to the room, a towel around his waist. He held it there until he slipped on a long hoodie, almost touching his knees. He slipped on a pair of sweatpants and sat on the bed next to Keith. They were both robbed, deprived of all emotions, sensations and feelings.

“Are you going to shower.” Was all that he seemed to be able to say. It sounded more like a statement.

Keith shook his head. “Tomorrow.”

“Ok.”

“Are you hungry.”

“No. Are you.”

“No.”

“Ok.”

“Are you gonna be able to sleep.”

Lance bit his lip. “No.”

Keith sighed. “Me neither.”

Lance fell backwards, sprawling his body on to the bed. “I... I feel like it’s all fake, ya know? Like someone is gonna just tell me, _‘Yo, this is a joke, Cora is in Canada because she’s so badass.’_ Or something. I dunno, anything. I just feel like she’s _not really gone.”_

Keith nodded, and he felt an all too familiar understanding wash over him. “Yeah.” Was all he said.

Keith tucked himself in under the sheets and closed his eyes.

The were silent the rest of the morning.

They were both wide awake, however to scared to say anything fearing that the other one had actually gotten the sweet release of sleep they were both craving, and not wanting to ruin it for the other, luckier boy who wouldn’t wake up with dark bags under their eyes.

But, unfortunately, they were both fully conscious, not being able to get to sleep and if they did, they would be running, fearing the nightmares that chased away their dreams and would undoubtedly continue to for months after today.

So they stayed awake through the morning hours, their shutters drawn tight.

They stayed awake, silently suffering.

The stayed awake in denial that their daughter was dead.

The sun shone through Keith’s window, but he refused to get up. He didn’t want to do anything. He wasn’t hungry. He was tired, but he couldn’t sleep. He told Lance he would shower in the morning, but he didn’t want to pass Cora and Cece’s room. So he just... laid there. Quiet. Unmoving. In pain. It reminded him of Cora’s last moments.

Cora.

The autopsy.

He was supposed to see her in person tomorrow. And he wasn’t sure if he was ready. If he couldn’t even pass her bedroom without breaking down, how was he supposed to see her limp, lifeless body, bloodied and riddled with bullet holes? 

Cora.

He needed to stay strong for her. She had to see her sister in a worse state, and she’s so young. Her innocence has been ripped away from her. And he needed to protect her. And he can’t protect her if he’s too busy feeling sorry for himself.

_Stay strong._ He told himself. _People need you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaah! i didn’t know how to finish it so sorry if it felt rushed 
> 
> i hope you like where the story is going so far!


End file.
